


Seeing Colours

by Apartments



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6356854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apartments/pseuds/Apartments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I recalled my veins turning purple when your blue touch grazed my red lips, so I came back for another dose of your touch, because I loved the way we mix together even if we're creating a mess.</p><p>A.K.A Zayn is colourblind and this stranger at the club shows him a whole new side to colour: purple, and it's a lot more than he thought it could ever be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeing Colours

It's all hectic around him. The bodies are sweaty and the hands are all horny, the skin is revealing and the kisses are desperate. Yet, there he is at the center of it all, and he's the eye of the storm, fully-clothed and alone, hands glued deliberately to his sides.

He closes his eyes and breathes in the neon of the flashing, blaring lights, lets it illuminate his soul the same way the air he inhales makes his body work properly.

Then, he exhales, he opens his eyes, and everything is red, from blaringly bright, luring hues down to the soft, darkened, seductive vibes emitting from the darker tones. It's beautiful. It's all quite so stunning he has to pause for a moment and take it all in, this whole new aura of lust in this space filed to the brim with dirty red.

He's so captivated, it doesn't see the rush of blue inching toward him until he blinks and only the edges of his vision are blurred in red, the rest is a hard, deep sea blue, completely isolated from the raspberries and the cherry shades he was enjoying.

"You seem lonely. May I buy you a drink, love?" The man inquires, and he appear may blue, but he notices the way his tongue is laced with red, fighting against the shade adorning his lips as they caress every careful word to exit through his mouth.

"No, I'm alright. Could you... Go elsewhere?" The man trots away with a frown, leaving the room to get drenched in red once again, but this time, it all feels unsettled and artificial, and wrong, he realizes; it just feels wrong, and maybe it's because he begins to see the red on the tips of his own fingers as well.

 

The bar was a dull blue compared to the loud red of the dancefloor. The calm and the saddened meet here to mix their spiraling shades of blue together into one, silent splash of dark colour. That is what he enjoys the most, electing to waste the remainder of his evening here, where the headache of the reds can't reach his eyes.

"Still alone?" There is a laughter on this man's voice that forces him to frown. He ignores the man, flagging down the bartender and ordering a beer. She seems like she's forcing herself to shine in a bright orange, but blue weaves its way through the orange and pulls it back, drags the orange under and drowns it, even though she produces his order and hands it to him, her smile not faltering once. "Hello? What's your name?"

"Zayn. Can you leave me alone now?" Zayn meets his strangers eyes, squirming under the stare of his eyes, specks of red, in the trickster vibes of the blue, determined and attractive causing his stomach to churn. The alcohol doesn't help either. Instead, he becomes increasingly sober.

"Liam." The man -Liam, Zayn gathers - hums, sliding onto the stool next to Zayn, acting as though he hasn't heard Zayn's plea for him to leave. "Why are you here all alone? You don't seem like the lonely type."

"I'd love to chat, Liam, but I am the lonely type and my social skills aren't too sharp. I suggest you leave before I embarrass myself." Zayn counters, glaring at the emerald greens and bright limes of the alcohol bottles on the sleeves, but he catches his hands in his gaze and they're so red. His fingers are twitching and he can't help but notice how the buzz in his head is asking him to take a fistfull of Liam's collar and-

"I think you're doing alright there, mate, you've successfully managed to tell me to piss off twice without actually telling me to piss off. You've got to give yourself some credit there, Zayn." Liam laughs at his own comments and Zayn can't help but join in; Liam's laugh is an excited yellow, like it had captured the essence of the air on the first day of summer. Zayn likes that, likes the way it makes him feel warm and tingly inside so he allows himself to laugh, basking in the wonderful feeling.

"I guess you're right." Zayn offers, downing the rest of his beer with hands he observes are doused in red, and he reckons it must have caught onto his skin from the dancefloor. Then, he twists around the bar stool to face Liam. He's still blue, blue, blue. But, it's a nice, accepting blue and Zayn feels like it's welcoming him in. And with the way Liam's smiling, Zayn know it's all sincere.

"You're awful cute, you know that?" Liam tells him. Zayn feels heat on his cheeks and it's burning hot, while the butterflies in his stomach offer gentle, pastel red paint, and it splashes around in his stomach until his body is covered, and he realizes that it wasn't just the dancefloor that has him feeling red, it's the way Liam's looking at him, and it's causing his heart to pound loudly in his ears, matching the beat of the pulsing bass the DJ of tonight is playing.

"You too," Zayn informs, and he doesn't know what he is doing, saying, or thinking, not a single thing; not even when the red consumes him like it was some sort of explosion and his fingers are gripping onto the collar of Liam's varisity jacket, pulling him in.

Zayn hasn't kissed anyone before. Not like this, anyway. Never a stranger and never this hungry and needy, and he's blaming the buzzing and fogginess the alcohol gave him, despite the way he loves Liam's hands on his hips and his tongue in his mouth.

Colours never mixed, either. Well, not perfectly anyway. However, when Liam pulls away to breathe, a chain of spit still connecting their lips, Zayn notices the way they're bruised; they're a deep purple, like a plum, and Zayn's so hungry, so intent on loving the shade he pulls Liam in for another drunken kiss that has his insides burning red and his skin turning blue, mixing into purple where his veins meet his skin, soaking into every layer.

He loves it; loves the rush of lust from the red and the sense of freedom and tenderness the blue offers. But, most importantly, he loves the purple, how it mixes all of his emotions together into one shade, one stunning breathtaking shade. And as Liam's hands roam his skin, lips sucking on his neck, Zayn knows for sure he won't let this moment end until purple is all he can feel.


End file.
